


Tipping The Scale

by msquared



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Next Gen Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msquared/pseuds/msquared
Summary: There is a darkness coming, like every time before that. Eventually, evil must rise and tip the scale of good and bad.A group of friends destined to fight together or fall apart. A betrayal of trust. Love in a time of war. These are all the ingredients for an adventure worth retelling.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, James Sirius Potter/Original Female Character(s), Scorpius Malfoy/Rose Weasley
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue: Darkness

The lights were flickering in the room she sat in, her wand sitting on the metal table in front of her. She picked at the blood on her fingernails, her ears ringing. The door opened and she flinched, eyes darting across the room as two men entered. They were familiar faces but both stone cold and ashy. 

“Imogen, you have to tell us what happened,” The taller man spoke, his voice low and soothing. She bit her lip, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Whatever you can remember, the only way we can help you is if we know what happened.” 

She started to speak, her voice cracking as her throat constricted. Her heart pounded in her chest, this was it. Her luck had run out, they were going to lock her up and throw away the key. 

She tried again. “I’m not sure what happened. But, is everyone okay?” 

The man nodded, adjusting his own pair of glasses. “Your bravery saved many lives today.” 

“Thank you Mr. Potter, I learned from the best.” She replied quietly, her heartbeat slowing with the news that her friends were safe. 

“What can you remember about the attack, Immy?” He asked again. 

Imogen drew a shuddering breath. The room stilled for a moment before she could find the words to say. “It was like darkness, total darkness. Cold and unforgiving.” 

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, raised an eyebrow. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t let his facial expression betray him. His partner was silent the entire conversation, placing the quill he was using to write her statement beside his parchment. They looked at each other quizzically, without words.

“Could someone please tell me what the hell is happening?” Imogen choked out, picking at the sleeves of her knitted sweater. 

“Well, Immy, it would seem that you’ve been targeted by a Dark Wizard. For reasons we don’t know. But that darkness you feel...I feel it too.”


	2. Chapter 1: Across The Pond

She was running late, jogging down the hallway of her building to the elevator. Her hands worked quickly to pull her auburn hair into a bun. “Hold the elevator please!” She called, shifting her bag onto her shoulder as she dove for the entrance.

A hand snuck out and held the door, the woman looking at her curiously. “Elevator? What’s that?” 

Imogen racked her brain for the appropriate word. “Sorry, I meant lift.” The woman nodded, understanding her American accent now. She stuck out her hand in greeting. 

“My name is Julia Wallows, I’m an assistant in the Magical Law department. You must be part of the American transfers we are getting?” She asked, brushing back her blonde hair from her shoulders. 

Imogen grinned, returning the handshake. “I’m Imogen Graves, an Auror transfer.” Suddenly she was grateful that the apartment building she was living in for the duration of her stay was in Diagon Alley in the magical world. No possibility of slipping up around the No-Majs, or muggles. 

“Is this your first time in England, Imogen?” Julia asked, smoothing her coat. Imogen nodded before replying.

“Yes, I grew up in Vermont in America but never traveled farther than the East Coast.” 

They chatted amicably as Julia led her towards the Ministry of Magic, where Imogen would begin her stay as a Auror. She was nervous but excited to learn from her English counterparts. 

Julia entered a rather plain looking building, stopping at a desk up front. “This is Maddie,” she started, gesturing to the heavyset woman at the desk who smiled widely at Imogen. “She will take your wand and perform the security spells needed for you to enter without problem!”

“Thank you so much Julia, I really appreciate it. Can I treat you to drinks later?” Imogen replied, flashing her new friend a smile. Julia smiled and nodded before saying her goodbyes and heading off to her own office. 

Imogen placed her wand on the desk and Maddie waved her own over it, murmuring words that she couldn’t quite catch. Once she was finished, she slipped a plain manila folder across to Imogen. “This is your introduction packet as well as the name of your liaison Auror here. Welcome to the Ministry of Magic!” 

Imogen smiled and pulled the folder towards herself, heading down the hallway Maddie directed her towards. At the end was a older style elevator and as she entered, a house elf tipped his hat at her.

“What floor miss?” He asked. She’d never seen a house elf in person, they weren’t fairly popular in America. But she had read about them in her well-worn copies of Newt Scamander’s textbooks.

“Uh, the Auror floor?” She replied and the house-elf, wearing a name badge of Plum snickered, pressing buttons. The elevator lurched and started to descend. 

While she waited, she thumbed through the packet she was given, noting her liaison Auror as a Mr. James S. Potter. Imogen stared curiously at the name, unable to place where she had heard the name before. The elevator stopped with a dull thud and she thanked Plum before exiting. The door opened into an office space, alive with witches and wizards busily about. Those closest to the door paused as she entered, taking in this American foreigner. She nervously straightened her plaid blazer as someone approached. 

“The American?” An older gentleman with salt and pepper hair asked. He had a slight scar on his forehead in an odd lightening bolt shape. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses but they were kind. “Uh, Imogen?”

“Yes! Yes that’s me,” She replied, shaking his outstretched hand. 

“Welcome, I’m Head Auror of the Department you’ll be in, my name is Harry Potter.” She froze at his words, heat rushing to her face. How did she not recognize the Boy Who Lived, the infamous Harry Potter? 

“Thank you Sir, it’s great to meet you.” She stammered and Mr Potter smirked.

“This way, Imogen.” He directed and she followed meekly, becoming overwhelmed with the busyness of the office. As she passed, everyone stopped and paused, wondering who this new witch could be. 

He led her into a smaller office with large windows beaming with natural light facing over a river. Imogen marveled at the view as they stopped at a desk. “Here is where you can put your stuff, James should be around shortly.” Imogen nodded, depositing her leather bag and folder onto the desk. It was large and spacious, much nicer than her hard metal desk back in New York. 

Suddenly she remembered the name of her liaison partner. James S. Potter. Could it be...Harry Potter’s son? 

Before she had time to worry, Harry spoke. “James, over here!” Imogen glanced up to see a rather tall and lanky man walk towards this. There was no question that he was Harry Potter’s son, with matching glasses and dark hair yet James’s hair had a red cast and his face was splattered with freckles. “This is Imogen Graves, your American liaison.” 

James grinned at her and nodded. “It’s s pleasure to meet you, Imogen.” 

“Likewise, I look forward to getting to know the office and how things are handled here.” She replied, fiddling with a button on her blazer. 

Harry cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to it. Imogen, if you have any issues feel free to come to my office.” Imogen thanked him and followed James back to their adjoining desks. 

“So how do you like England so far?” James inquired, flipping through folders on his desk. Once he found the right one, he opened it and began studying the pages. 

“Well, it’s rather wet and dreary but I like it so far.” She replied, organizing the folder on her desk. “How long have you been an Auror?”

“About 2 years, I came to Academy right after graduation.” She thought for a moment—that would make him around 25, whilst she was 23. 

“I joined about a year ago, I started on the Healer route in America.”

James chuckled. “It’s always good to have a variety of skills, especially because we have some clumsy oafs on our team.”

“Well, I’m happy to help in anyway I can.” Imogen smiles brightly at him, her cheeks flushing when his green eyes pierced hers.

He paused for a moment, maintaining eye contact. “Well, I think we are going to have quite the adventure Imogen.” 

And she couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter intrigues you to stick around and see where this story goes!


	3. Chapter 2: Chips or Crisps?

How come crisps are called chips and chips are called French Fries?” James asked whilst balancing a quill at the end of his nose. It had been a long week already and Imogen could feel a headache coming on. 

“I’m not sure, why do you call an elevator a lift?” She replied, pausing her evaluation of their latest case of broom thievery. 

“Well, I reckon because it lifts you?” 

Imogen laughed, earning a smirk from James. She had to admit in the month she had been at the office, James had become quite a good friend. He always had something daring and witty to say, even if she didn’t want to hear it. 

“It’s fascinating that the most I’ve learned in my time here is how confused you are about American slang.” She replied dryly, stretching out her ankles to wake her sleeping feet. 

James threw his hands up in disbelief, launching the quill onto the floor. “Graves, you wound me! I also taught you the proper pronunciation of Wingardium Leviosa too!” 

Imogen rolled her eyes, resting her chin on her palm. “Of course, it’s LeviOsa not LevioSA.” 

“Your American accent makes everything sound so mediocre.” James frowned.

“Meanwhile your accent makes everything sound posh, right?” Imogen fired back. 

“Now you are getting it, love.” James winked and she could feel the heat rushing up her neck. She coughed and sputtered, returning to her paperwork. James laughed, standing up and walking out of the office. 

After he left, she placed her hands to her cheeks, hoping to cool the blush she was developing. It was a while later before James returned, two young men in tow. 

One was about the same height as James, with broad shoulders and similar facial features. Perhaps a brother? Cousin? She had heard James talking about his many cousins and their adventurous personalities. 

The other was shorter but leaner than both other men with icy blonde hair and piercing gray eyes hidden behind wire frames. She furrowed her eyebrows and as James led them closer to their shared space, turned in her chair to greet them. 

“Imogen, I would like you to meet some friends of mine. This is my cousin Fred Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy.” So Fred was James’s cousin, she realized as she stood to shake their outstretched hands. 

“It’s a pleasure, Imogen,” Scorpius replied, a husky tone to his voice. “We were just visiting.” 

“Oh, are you not Auror’s like James?” 

Fred spoke up first, running a hand through his dark red hair. “No, I was here for my uncle’s business and Scorpius is a Potion’s Master in the Department of Intoxicating Substances.” He offered and Imogen nodded, not really sure what either of those jobs entailed. 

“It’s great to meet friends of James’s, I’ve heard many stories.” She smiled brightly and the men laughed. 

“I’m glad that you are adjusting well to England, James said that you are from New York?” Scorpius asked and she nodded. 

“Originally I am from Vermont but our Auror Department is stationed in New York, so I relocated.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s nothing like here though, it’s been quite the learning curve.” 

James reached over and placed a hand on her arm, nodding encouragement. “But you are doing great, even Dad agrees.” Imogen smiled sweetly at James whilst noticing the look that was shared between Scorpius and Fred. 

“Now you must come out for drinks tonight, our whole group is meeting at The Three Broomsticks and we can introduce you to some more friends.” Fred said, nodding to James and Scorpius. “We aren’t all as handsome as James here but we get by.” James bumped his cousin with his shoulder, raking a hand through his hair and muttering darkly under his breath. 

Imogen laughed, crossing her arms across her chest. “But should we let him know how handsome he is? He might get an even bigger head than the one he’s got.” That earned shared laughter from all three men and she beamed. 

“Love, you can compliment me whenever you want.” James winked at her again and she rolled her eyes. 

“Oh hush,” she chastised and turned towards Fred. “Would it be alright if I brought a friend? I promised her a round for helping me get to the office on my first day.” 

Fred nodded and after they made plans to meet at 8, departed. 

“Well, I think they like you.” James affirmed, gathering folders and pieces of parchment from his desk.

“What’s not to like?” Imogen fired back. “I’m the new mysterious American. Everyone will want to know my story.” 

He chuckled before replying. “That’s for sure.” 

The ending of the day came quicker than she would have expected, knowing she had plans after work. She had enough time to go home and change into something more casual before meeting up with James in Diagon Alley outside a store called Ollivander’s which she would learn to be the wand shop for all students attending Hogwarts. Julia had declined the invite for tonight, blaming her brother for asking her to babysit her niece a week earlier. 

They chatted as they wandered through Diagon Alley until an Apparition point for The Three Broomsticks. James offered his arm for Side-Along Apparition and with a pull at her gut, they arrived in front of a cozy pub brimming with life. 

“Imogen! James! You made it,” Fred approached, three shot glasses in his hand. James took one and offered it to Imogen, who peered curiously. “It’s Firewhiskey.” 

With a shrug, she downed the shot and grimaced as it burned. Another glass was offered—this time full of Butterbeer—and she gratefully took it, smiling at the woman who had given it to her. 

“Cousin, aren’t you going to introduce us?” The woman cocked her hip out and gestured to the group of 4 behind her. James laughed and placed his hand in the small of Imogen’s back, leading her towards the table where they sat. 

“Well, how about instead of confusing the hell out of her, you lot just introduce yourselves?” James gestured to the group. 

The red headed woman who gave her the drink rolled her eyes. She reached over and shook Imogen’s hand as they sat down in the booth, everyone squishing together. Imogen was between James and Fred, while the redhead cozied up to Scorpius. “I’m Rose Weasley, this is my boyfriend Scorpius but I think you met earlier?” 

Imogen nodded, taking a drink of her beer. “Yes, it’s lovely to meet you.” 

Sitting next to Scorpius was another blonde man who grinned wickedly at her. “I’m Lorcan Scamander, it’s a pleasure. James, Fred and I graduated from Hogwarts together. I’m a photographer for The Daily Prophet and Rose is a journalist.” Imogen’s eyes widened—she recognized their names from her morning paper.

“I loved your piece on Nifflers, it was brilliant!” She complimented and the pair nodded their thanks. 

“I’m Roxanne Weasley, but I’m sure the hair gives it away,” Roxanne introduced herself. She had a softer face than Rose, but the similarities were undeniable. Her hair was fixed into a intricate side braid, while Rose’s curls were in a bun. Did she detect a slight accent too? Before she could figure it out, Rose spoke up again. 

“It’s just fascinating that you’ve come all the way from America to train here! Would you be willing to do an interview about it?” 

“Uh—“ Imogen hesitated, wondering how to respond. But before she could, James swooped in.

“Calm down Hermione, let her breathe before you talk shop.” Imogen flashed a smile at James but nodded.

“Once I get more situated into the program, perhaps then?” She offered and that satisfied Rose, who beamed. Scorpius laughed, pressing a kiss to his girlfriend’s temple.

As the night went on, Imogen felt herself growing more at ease with her new life in England and her new friends. 

Perhaps, it was a good thing to come to England. Even if she had to escape her old life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this so far! I’m not sure if this will even reach a lot of people but I’m having fun writing it.


	4. Chapter 3: Happy Thoughts

It was a Tuesday afternoon when it all started, fog settling over the Ministry with vengeance. Imogen paused her desk work to stare at the approaching smog, narrowing her eyes in thought. 

“Is it always so foggy?” She asked and James glanced up, following her line of sight to the window. He shrugged, preoccupied with his report. Stretching her shoulders, she leaned backwards and rolled her ankles. 

“Graves, Potter.” A voice called and the pair looked over to see Bill Holten approaching. “There’s a group of Dementors circling Hogsmeade. Go and check it out, disperse the group and report back.” Bill wasn’t the friendliest sort, but he was a senior Auror with 30 years of experience under his belt. James and Imogen stood, nodding to their superior. 

Imogen donned her tan pea coat, flipping her hair backwards into a ponytail. James followed her out of the office and down the hallway, tucking his wand into his hip sheath. 

“Have you ever produced a Patronus Charm?” He questioned, running a hand through his hair as he fell into step with her. 

“In theory and practice, yes.” She replied, faltering slightly. “Never in the field. You can take point if you’d like.” Imogen offered, earning a shrug from James. 

“We will just see how it plays out, might not be a bad idea to get some practice in.” They stepped out onto the street and passed the wards. With a pull and a pop, they apparated away.

Imogen blinked as she landed, thick fog surrounding the pair. The situation was eerie, leaving her feeling unsteady. Drawing her wand, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that James had followed suit. He stood taller, eyes tracking every movement within reach. 

“Come on, let’s see what this is all about,” he said softly, leading the way through the village. She followed closely, wand drawn in front of her. 

The village was quiet, if anything it was too quiet. It was nothing like the buzzing pub she had visited last week with James and his friends, it was cold and abandoned. It unsettled James as well, his usual cheerful demeanor shifted to vigilance. 

They worked quietly clearing each street, moving like a well oiled machine. If anything, she was grateful they worked so well together as it make the transition from America to England that much easier. 

She felt it approaching—a stillness in the wind. It felt like a crack in the ground, cold ebbing and flowing towards her. A chill made her shiver and she gripped her wand tighter, drawing her coat around her. That didn’t keep out the coldness she felt, drawing her shoulders down with heaviness. 

“We’re close,” James breathed out, using his body as a shield in front of her as they started down a rocky path. Overgrown shrubbery flocked them on both sides, drawing them down a country trail. “Remember—happy thoughts, love. Happy thoughts.” 

She nodded, a wave of despair washing over her like a cold breeze. Trying to keep calm, she began to recite the incantation in her head as she followed James. 

Expecto Patronum.

Expecto Patronum.

Expecto Patronum. 

Having studied Dementors in school did not prepare her for the life experience of seeing one in front of her. In actuality, they were approaching a group of 10-15, all hovering above the ground, circling each other. James bristled, stopping in the middle of the path as the first couple creatures noticed their approach. 

“Expecto Patronum,” he muttered, a dash of blue light erupting from the end of his wand and hitting the Dementors square. They whirled away, circling back to take another shot. 

Imogen took a deep breath and drew a happy memory from her thoughts, steadying her wand. “Expecto Patronum!” To her dismay, the light sparked and faded out. 

James nodded, encouragingly. “Try again Graves, happy thoughts.” He sent another incantation to keep them at bay while she racked her brain to settle on a memory. 

Sitting with her grandmother at the lake house, a piece of chewing gum passed her way. 

Imogen closed her eyes briefly and settled her nerves. “Expecto Patronum!” She shouted, blue light erupting from her wand, morphing into the shape of an animal that bounded towards the dark creatures, pushing them away. “What is it?” She asked James, trying to make out the guardian she had produced. 

He cleared his throat before responding. “It’s...uh—a doe, I think.” His eyes widened and they made eye contact, a grin on Imogen’s face. 

“Brilliant, I love deer.” She looked back towards the area the Dementors were congregating. 

James started back down the path, eyes wandering over the English countryside. “That’s Hogwarts in the distant,” he gestured towards a castle figure faraway on the skyline. With the departure of the Dementors, the fog was slowly starting to lift. 

Imogen nodded, rubbing her hands together in the cold. She had caught up with James, her elbow brushing against his arm as they continued down the path. They both were silent, Imogen wondering if it was the after effects of the Dementors. As if he was reading her mind, James stuck his hand in his pocket, drawing out chocolate. He slipped a piece into her palm, holding her hand for a moment. 

“You did well, Graves.” She smiled softly at his compliment, slipping the chocolate into her mouth. Something on the trail caught her eye and she quickened her pace, a sense of foreboding washing over her. What she saw make her stop in her tracks, her heel digging into the muddy cobblestone. 

“James...there’s a body.” She said, peering into the fog. Without thinking, she ran forward trying to reach the figure on the ground as quickly as she could. She could heard James take off behind her, both of them reaching the body within moments. 

“Don’t touch anything,” James said, whirling his wand to send a message by Patronus. “I sent for backup.” 

Imogen nodded, immediately beginning to take in the scene a look for clues. She pulled a notebook from her pocket and began scribbling notes. It was a man, about mid forties, lying facedown in the dirt.

James stood back, letting her work. “It’s not uncommon for rogue Dementors to perform the Kiss,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck. She wondered how many of these cases he had come across, he was after all a more seasoned Auror than she was. 

Imogen looked at him and frowned. “James, Dementors don’t slit throats. This was a murder.” She pointed down at the blood pooling in the ground, kneeling down to take a sample for evidence. The man’s eyes were still wide open—terrified. She swallowed hard and stilled, letting her stomach settle from the discomfort of death. Tracking the ground around her, she furrowed her brow and made contact with James. “There are no tracks leading away.” 

“The murderer could have apparated away,” he suggested, drawing a protective circle around the body. They both heard a faint pop from the trailhead and he excused himself to go meet the other Aurors. 

In his absence, Imogen let her walls down. “Deep breaths. Allow yourself to feel and then get back to work.” She whispered to herself, her entire body buzzing. Imogen was accustomed to death, it was an old friend she couldn’t get rid of but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Hearing the others approach, she took another deep breath and stilled, reevaluating the crime scene with vigor. 

Harry Potter followed his eldest son down the cobblestone path, his face pinched with displeasure. In four short strides he was beside Imogen, staring down at the body while the others bustled about taking samples and notes of the scene. “I’m sorry that your first month with us is marred by death, Imogen.” He apologized, grimacing. 

Imogen shook her head. “It’s alright Sir, I didn’t become an Auror for sunshine and rainbows.” Her response earned a chuckle from Harry, who moved away to survey the scene. James approached her side, drawing a notebook out of his grey cloak to take notes. “I think he was surprised, he doesn’t even have his wand drawn.” 

James nodded but looked curiously at the man. “Are we sure that he even has one?” He questioned and waved his own wand, trying to summon the man’s. Nothing came. “So, is he a Muggle or did the murderer take his wand?” 

As they continued to work the crime scene, it became known that the man was Henry King, a halfblood who worked on the grounds of Hogwarts with the Threstals. James and Imogen finishes up their notes and Harry dismissed them to recuperate after their Dementor battle with Harry heading up to Hogwarts to warn the Headmaster of the discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my attempt at doing a NaNoWriMo for the month of October. I’m having fun pushing myself to write every day and seeing where this story takes us!


	5. Chapter 4: A Seer’s Warning

That night, Imogen collapsed on her couch and rubbed her temples. Her apartment (or flat as the English would say) was quiet, sometimes too quiet. She sighed, the sunlight fading out of her windows as the sun set. 

She was used to death, having seen more than her fair share in her twenty three years of life. Hell, she was six when she first saw her first dead body—her grandfather clutching his heart on the stoop of their family lake house. It didn’t rattle her like it used to. 

“Maybe I should get a cat,” she murmured to herself, flicking her wand to turn on lights. While the thought circled in her brain, weighing the pros and cons, she crossed her flat to the kitchen and pulled out a butterbeer. Nursing the drink, she leaned against her counter and considered a cat. Maybe a black cat? Tabby? 

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. She crossed her threshold, opening her door to James clutching a bag of takeout and a grin. “What are you doing?” She asked, bemused. 

“Well, figured you might be hungry and Holten dig up some case files that are similar to the body today.” He explained and she stepped aside, letting him in. 

“So you brought dinner—Chinese by the smell-to sweeten the deal of work?” Imogen replied, shutting the door. James laughed, nodding sheepishly. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m starved.” 

They settled down at her little table next to the window, James pulling cartons of food out of the bag. “I got sweet and sour chicken, is that okay?” She nodded, pulling one carton towards her and flipping open a file. 

“So there has been more than one murder like the one today?” She questioned, skimming through the report. “Does Holten think we have a serial killer?” 

James thought for a moment. “I think he’s just trying to cover all bases, especially with the Dementors being in an area they shouldn’t be.” They worked quietly, stealing bites of food as they did. Imogen had to admit it was nice not being alone in her flat, she wasn’t used to so much quiet. She lived on a busy street in New York, the city that never sleeps. Here was peaceful, quiet and it only made her feel more on edge. 

She wet her lips. “How difficult is it to get an animal overseas?” James glanced up, peering at her with his grey eyes, eyebrow raised in question. “My place is rather quiet, I thought about getting a cat.” 

“A cat.” He deadpanned, dropping the folder he was thumbing through. “Why would you want a little gremlin like a cat?”

“You don’t like cats?” She replied, giggling.

“My Aunt Hermione has this ancient orange tabby, this thing is evil. Only cat I’ve even met and he’s MEAN.” James emphasized the word ‘mean’, rolling up his left sleeve to reveal a thin white scar. “Gave me this when I was 12! Thought I was gunna lose that arm!”

Imogen rolled her eyes. “You are being dramatic.” 

“Am not! I’d rather face 100 Dementors wandless than deal with that furball!” 

She laughed, taking a swig of her drink. “I was just curious because when my job here is done, I wouldn’t want to abandon a cat here.” 

James stiffened slightly, looking downward. “Yeah, I’ve gotten use to having you in the Department. But you’ll have to go home eventually.” 

“Cheer up Potter, you aren’t getting rid of my wit and humor that easily.” She fired back, relaxing when he smiled. After a while, the words were blurring together and she dropped back against the chair and groaned. James started clearing food containers, stretching as he stood.

“Tomorrow, we will take a trip to the morgue and see what the techs figured out for the autopsy. Is that okay with you?” James asked, gathering the files he had brought and sliding them into his bag. Imogen nodded, standing to help him tidy up. 

“It’s not my first murder, James,” she replied quietly, wringing her hands together. James nodded and she followed him to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Goodnight Imogen,” James smiled and she watched him walk out the door, a twisting in her gut. 

She slept fitfully that night, waking every once in a while to her quiet apartment. A cat would liven things up, she decided at 2 am. Making a mental note to find a cat in need of a home, she curled back up in bed, gripping the hilt of her wand under her pillow. 

It was a chilly fall morning, September had brought fog and changing leaves. She dressed in her favorite brown plaid trousers, shivering as she pulled a thick cream wool sweater over top. The bags under her eyes were desperate for concealer and she obliged, applying blush on her cheekbones and lining her eyes with brown shadow. Beauty spells were not her forte. She preferred to do her makeup and hair by hand. 

Deciding it was cold enough for a hot drink, she bought two lattes on her way into the office. As she made her way to her desk, James glanced up and smiled broadly when she placed one of the coffees on his side. 

“Blimey, you are a lifesaver,” he groaned, taking a sip of the hot beverage. “Thanks love, are you ready for the morgue?” When she nodded, he stood and started to lead the way. Imogen gathered a notepad as she passed her desk. 

The morgue was on the bottom floor, tile floor illuminated by floating candles on the ceiling. Imogen wondered how they provided enough light for the autopsy techs. James led the way through the doors, his tall frame blocking Imogen from seeing inside. 

“Shit,” he swore lowly, running his fingers through his tangled mess of hair. “Well, this will be fun.” Before she had time to question him, she made her way past him and saw their victim on the metal slab, a woman standing beside him with a medical chart. 

She was gorgeous, with icy blonde hair and piercing green eyes. Imogen felt rather inadequate next to her, heat rising to her cheekbones as the woman glanced between her and James, something stormy in her eyes. 

James spoke first. “Imogen, this is Camille Winters. Cam, this is Imogen Graves—the American.” Imogen grimaced at his use of “The American”, she wanted to be more than just her nationality here. 

Camille extended a hand. “It’s a pleasure.” Her words were cordially but Imogen could sense a wariness to them. “I guess I didn’t realize it was your case,” she turned towards James, who shrugged. She pursed her lips, words dying on her tongue but turned back to the body. 

Imogen pulled out her notebook and started taking notes, as Camille talked. 

“Henry King, approximately 47 years old. Halfblood, currently employed by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was stabbed three times with a sharp blade, in a triangular pattern. His throat was also slit. No sedatives were used, suggesting he either knew his attacker or was subdued some other way.” 

James pointed at the man’s wrist, which Camille lifted. “What is that?” 

“It’s an impression of something we haven’t pinpointed yet. But whatever it was, it was held there postmortem.” She explained. 

Camille was polite, but Imogen could tell she was cautious. She went through her report quickly, leaving little room for questions or observations. 

James sighed as Camille covered the body back up. “Cam-thank you for taking the time to talk the case with us.” There was a levelness to his voice that left no room for other discussions but that did not stop the medical tech. 

“James, please heed my warning.” She replied and Imogen straightened, growing defensive. Was this woman threatening James? 

“It’s not what you think,” he replied lowly. 

“All I’m asking is that you remember what I said,” Camille replied, turning on her heel and stalking away. 

James nodded slowly, gesturing for Imogen to follow him out. With a last look, Camille held Imogen’s gaze steady, questions burning in her eyes. Feeling rather unsettled, she waited until she was alone in the hallway with James. 

“What the hell was that?” Imogen snapped. 

James rubbed his temples. “I apologize. Cam is well, my ex girlfriend.” 

Oh. EX-girlfriend. 

Imogen blinked, his words creating a stillness in the air. “Does she think we are together or something?” She asked slowly. 

He shook his head.

“Then why was she looking at me like I shouldn’t be here.” Imogen gritted her teeth, anxiety swirling in her stomach. 

“Camille is a Seer, she can see visions.” James replied, leaning against the wall and meeting Imogen’s eyes. He didn’t break eye contact. “We didn’t have the greatest relationship but we were together for a while. About 3 months ago, she said she had a vision that I was would fall in love with someone else. It ate her up inside even though I promised I wouldn’t. She couldn’t see the woman who I supposedly loved, just the idea of it all.” 

Imogen’s eyes widened. “Does she think I’m that woman?” 

James shrugged, his shoulders falling in exasperation. “I don’t know. She’s so fixated on this she can’t see straight. I’m sorry, I truly am.”

She thought for a moment. “Well, we are partners. We can’t control what she thinks, okay?” 

“Are you mad? Upset?” James questioned, fiddling with his watch. Imogen shook her head, brushing his question off. 

“No, we have bigger things to worry about. We have a killer to catch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this story! I like murder mysteries and am glad to be able to take my own spin on things.

**Author's Note:**

> Barely making the cut to start it on Oct. 1st! This has been circling my brain for the past month, so let’s see if I can do it justice. 
> 
> Any characters you recognized below to jkr. The rest are mine.


End file.
